


Alternate

by tomatopudding



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Het and Slash, Implied Torture, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Rift spike has sent Jack, Rhys, Gwen, and Ianto into an alternate reality. The only way for them to get back to their own universe is to find the exact position where they left. The only problem is, they are trapped within the castle of the cruel Queen Isis, with seemingly no chance of escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternate

The Queen’s laugh was the like the scrape of fingernails on a blackboard, grating to the ear and heard from the next room. Gwen cringed when it reached her and her steps faltered before she entered the throne room. The guard behind her growled and shoved her slightly, making Gwen stumble.

‘Careful,’ she muttered, not daring to speak any louder, lest the guard hear. 

She walked as quickly has she could with the heavy iron chains slung between her wrists and ankles, the shackles just too tight for comfort.

‘Oh, you!’ the Queen said shrilly as Gwen entered the room.

Isis wasn’t talking to her, however, but rather to Jack, who was seated beside her in a comfortable throne.

‘Anything you accuse me of, it’s not true,’ Jack said with a grin.

Queen Isis lay a long-fingered hand on Jack’s forearm.

‘Oh, Jack, you are incorrigible!’

‘Well, that I can’t really deny.’

The Queen gave another piercing laugh that stopped once she caught sight of Gwen.

‘Ah, yes,’ she sighed, ‘The troublemaker.’

Gwen was silent, glaring resolutely at the Queen.

‘Jack,’ she said and the guard behind her tugged on the chain that connected to an iron collar about her throat. Gwen choked slightly.

‘Hey, now,’ Jack said, suddenly firm, ‘I thought you weren’t going to hurt them.’

‘We aren’t,’ Isis replied with a sickly sweet smile, fingers curling around Jack’s wrist.

‘She’s lying!’ Gwen spat.

‘How dare you!’ the Queen roared, rising, ‘How dare you accuse us of such blasphemy!’

‘Oh, get over yourself.’

The Queen seemed about to make some command, but stopped herself.

‘You had best learn to watch you tongue, girl,’ Isis hissed, ‘This is your home now and it will do you no good to get into our bad graces.’

Gwen ignored the Queen, choosing instead to look at Jack. Although Gwen, herself, wore little else than the heavy chains, Jack was dressed in the finest robes of purple silk with golden trim, a metal circlet resting grandly upon his head.

‘May I speak to you, Jack,’ Gwen requested, ‘Alone.’

‘Whatever you must say to me can be said in front of her,’ Jack replied, with a wary glance towards the furious queen.

‘You’re making Ianto jealous.’

‘Oh,’ the Queen said with a cruel smile, ‘I had no idea that he wished for our attentions as well.’

‘Not you, you cow!’

The guard tugged on her heavy iron leash and Gwen stumbled backwards, just managing to catch herself.

‘How can you play along with this, Jack?’ Gwen asked, eyes tearing up from the pressure being put on her throat, ‘How can you believe that she’s being kind!’

With a wave of her hand, Queen Isis signaled the guard. The man gave a bow and began to tug Gwen away.

‘They’re hurting him, Jack!’ Gwen called back tearfully.

‘You said that she’s married?’ Isis sniffed haughtily, ‘How could anyone love such a horrid woman?’

‘Oi!’

Both the queen and Jack turned at Rhys’ voice. This man, too, was wearing not much more than heavy iron chains.

‘That’s my wife you’re talking about, so you better watch it! I make your drinks.’

‘You wouldn’t dare,’ the Queen hissed, but Rhys stared her down.

‘Why are we here,’ Jack murmured.

‘You traded your freedom for your lives,’ Isis answered, as if it were the most common thing in the world.

‘You said you weren’t going to hurt them,’ Jack said.

‘Did she look hurt to you?’

‘No.’

‘There’s answer enough.’

Jack was not convinced.

*

Gwen was shoved into the dim cell, landing hard on her hands and knees. In the small sliver of bright light that pierced the dank place before the guard closed the door, Gwen caught sight of Ianto huddled in the corner. Using her memory of where he had been, she now crawled over to her teammate. She tried to place a comforting hand on Ianto’s shoulder, but the Welshman flinched away.

‘Oh, Ianto,’ she murmured.

‘Gwen?’ Ianto’s voice was raspy and sounded as if he had swallowed dust.

In the dim light of the cell, Gwen could see the countless cuts that littered Ianto’s naked form, her eyes tracing the line of a fresh one that made a dark line from shoulder blade to hip.

‘Did they hurt you again?’ she asked softly.

‘I’m alright,’ Ianto replied, lying as usual.

‘No, you’re not,’ Gwen said firmly, again placing a hand on Ianto’s uncut shoulder, not moving away when he flinched this time.

‘It’s just me.’

Ianto did not reply, simply shivered.

‘Jack will get us out.’

‘He’s too busy having fun,’ Ianto whispered back brokenly.

‘He’ll come,’ Gwen repeated firmly.

*

Jack knew that something had to be wrong. Although he saw Gwen and Rhys multiple times each day, both unharmed except for their dignity, it was as if Ianto did not exist. On the few days when the Queen was too busy with her work to keep an eye on him, Jack wandered the palace in search of the dungeon when his teammates were being kept. On one such day, he came across a set of cells made of iron bars in the old Wild West style. Although he didn’t find Gwen or Ianto, there was another man being kept there. He was elderly, maybe seventy, and wore only the chains and loincloths that Gwen and Rhys were allowed.

The man looked dead, but closer inspection revealed him to be simply staring out into the air, his breathing shallow and labored.

‘Excuse me?’ Jack called out.

The old man’s gaze remained constant.

‘Do you know where they’re being kept? My friends? One woman and two men?’

‘Aye,’ the man rasped suddenly, ‘I know of them. They were kept here in the cell beside mine.’

‘And where are they now?’ Jack asked eagerly.

‘Don’t know,’ the man replied, ‘the thinner man put up fight. They got taken away.’

‘Ianto,’ Jack murmured sorrowfully.

‘Aye.’

‘Why are you here?’ Jack asked.

The man’s unblinking gaze finally turned towards Jack and the American could see that his eyes were pearly white with the beginnings of cataracts.

‘I was left here,’ he replied, ‘Not on purpose, see. The one I was traveling with, he couldn’t find me. So he left.’

‘The Doctor?’ Jack whispered in surprise.

‘Aye, so you know of him?’

‘I traveled with him.’

‘Which?’

‘The Ninth,’ Jack replied. The old man nodded sagely.

‘And he left you here as the Thirteenth would abandon me.’

‘Well, not here exactly,’ Jack told him, ‘I was left on Earth, but it was in a different universe at a different time.’

‘Ah yes, back then the Doctor still knew not how to escape the hold of the First Universe,’ the man said, more to himself than Jack, ‘And how did you end up in the Fifth Universe?’

‘My team and I guarded the Rift back in my Universe,’ Jack replied, ‘A spike sent us here and the Queen asked for our freedom in return for our lives.’

‘She gave me the same choice,’ the man said, ‘This Queen’s grandmother Kara did. Must have forgotten about me.’

‘When we leave this place, we can bring you with us.’

‘My time has come to its end,’ the man told Jack, coughing harshly, ‘But this thing you seek can be reached in the lowest dungeon of this horrid place.’

‘The Rift?’ Jack asked, hushed.

‘Aye.’

The man coughed again, loudly, roughly, painfully.

‘What is your name?’ Jack asked gently, ‘So that I may give you a proper farewell.’

‘My name,’ the man replied, ‘is Rhys. Rhys Williams.’

‘What?’ 

‘I am Rhys Williams and I know of you, Jack Harkness. Your picture has been handed down through my family for generations. I have been told that it was first taken by my thousand-time-great grandmother.’

‘Gwen.’

‘Precisely.’

‘She's on my team,’ Jack said, ‘She's the woman you saw.’

‘My mother’s resemblance to her was uncanny.’

With those words, Rhys Williams, thousand-times-great grandson of the Gwen and Rhys Jack knew, died.

*

He didn’t give up his search in the time that followed. Now, he searched not only for Ianto, but also for the deepest dungeon where the Rift’s power flowed. Some time later—it could have been weeks, moths, even years and Jack would not have known, he had lost count quite some time ago and with no access to the outside world he had no way of using the sun as his guide—Jack stumbled across a dungeon. Unlike the barred cells where he had found the younger (in a way) Rhys, this was made of solid iron, with only a tiny barred window to see into it with.

He would not have found the dungeon if the sound of sobbing hadn’t emerged. Following the noise, Jack found the window and peered inside. A single, huddled form was in the corner, trembling madly. Jack took the set of keys he had stolen from one of the guards a short while ago and tried each one until he found the match. He slipped into the cell and walked over to the figure, the stylistic wooden shoes he wore clacking loudly on the flagstones. He crouched beside the figure and placed a hand on one trembling shoulder.

‘No,’ the person moaned, ‘Please, no. I’ll do anything, but please not again, I can’t go again!’

‘Ianto?’ Jack whispered.

‘Jack?’

Ianto’s eyes peeked over his shuddering shoulder and, catching sight of Jack, bloomed with fresh tears.

‘Come on,’ Jack said gently, ‘Let’s get you up.’

‘Can’t,’ Ianto replied tearfully.

‘Can’t what?’

‘Can’t feel my legs.’

Jack lifted Ianto in his arms, feeling bare skin press against his silk robe. Jack carried Ianto into the lighted hallway and almost gasped aloud. The cuts and bruises all along Ianto’s body were clear as day, even in the dim underground light. They littered his face and hands, caked with dried blood and yellow pus from infections.

‘She said she wouldn’t hurt you,’ Jack murmured, placing Ianto carefully on a carved bench.

Ianto hissed as even the soft silk brushed against a wound.

‘ _She_ didn’t,’ Ianto replied.

‘Oh, Ianto.’

Jack cupped a bruised cheek, pressing a feather light kiss to the Welshman’s swollen lips.

‘We _will_ get out of here,’ Jack promised, ‘We’ll get out of here and go back to our own Universe, and Owen will patch you up. It’ll be as if nothing ever happened.’

‘It will never be as if nothing ever happened,’ Ianto murmured wryly.

Jack didn’t reply, instead allowing his gaze to cover Ianto’s naked body, seeing every cut, every bruise, every welt. 

‘Where are Gwen and Rhys?’ Jack asked.

‘Next door,’ Ianto replied, ‘and a lot cleaner.’

‘Why you?’ Jack asked softly.

‘I was competition for your attentions,’ Ianto murmured back, eyes catching Jack’s though one was swollen shut, ‘She thought that if you never saw me, you would stop caring for me.’

‘Never.’

Jack was reluctant to leave Ianto’s side, but did so briefly in order to unlock Gwen and Rhys’ cell.

‘Jack!’ Gwen cried, launching herself into his arms.

‘Glad to see you,’ Rhys offered, opting to shake Jack’s hand instead of hug him.

Jack led them back to where he had left Ianto and Gwen gasped when she caught sight of his bruised and bloody body.

‘Owen will fix it,’ Gwen said, ‘Right?’

‘Right,’ Jack confirmed, ‘I know how we can get out of here.’

‘How?’

‘The Rift’s power flows through the deepest dungeon of the castle.’

‘Who told you that?’ Gwen asked curiously as Jack gingerly lifted Ianto into his arms.

‘I met another prisoner,’ Jack explained, ‘He was in the upper cells.’

‘Should we get him?’ Rhys asked.

‘No,’ Jack replied firmly.

They didn’t question him further.

*

When Queen Isis was angry, her handmaidens and guards knew it. When Queen Isis was furious, the entire castle knew it. The stone walls seemed to shake with her shrill cry when she discovered all three of her prisoners gone.

‘Where could they be!’ she shouted, storming about her chamber, ‘Where are they!’

The “they” in question were currently making their way through the bowels of the castle with only a single torch as their guide, and it wasn’t an electric one. Jack was in the lead with the flame in hand, Rhys came behind him carrying Ianto, and Gwen brought up the flank. Jack, of course, would have preferred to carry Ianto himself, but general consensus showed that they would be safer if they had an actual Torchwood member at the front and back of their tiny column, which left Rhys to carry the other Welshman. 

‘How much further, you reckon?’ Rhys asked, ‘He may not look it, but Ianto is one heavy bloke.’

Ianto, who was currently in a state of half-consciousness, gave a little groan. 

‘Soon,’ Jack said, ‘I think.’

‘Brilliant.’

‘Hey, don’t complain,’ Jack told him waspishly, ‘At least you’re getting out.’

‘At least you had it made while we were here,’ Rhys countered.

‘Boys, please,’ Gwen sighed, interrupting their bickering, ‘Can’t your show of male dominance wait until we get home?’

Jack and Rhys murmured their apologies and the latter shifted Ianto into a better grip. 

‘I think we’ve found it,’ Jack whispered as he peeked into the doorway at the end of the hall. On all of the other floors, this door had led to more stairs.

‘What makes you sure?’ Rhys asked.

Jack stepped through the doorway and the others followed, Gwen letting out little gasp of wonder. The entire room was filled with a bright pulsing light that seemed to emanate from the centre of the room. A metal cylindrical object sat there, stretching from floor to ceiling and it looked suspiciously like a—

‘Rift manipulator,’ Jack said in a hushed voice.

‘But why is it like this?’ Gwen asked with wonder, ‘Ours doesn’t fill the entire room with light.’

‘Ours is more contained,’ Jack replied, placing a hand on the manipulator. He immediately jerked it back.

‘What?’ Rhys asked.

‘They have no control over the Rift,’ Jack told them, ‘No wonder it drew us in. I’m surprised there aren’t Weevils running free.’

‘Maybe there are,’ Gwen said, ‘I haven’t seen anything outside.’

‘Me neither,’ Jack said grimly, ‘For all we know, Queen Isis rules a colony of Weevils.’

‘Fitting,’ came the weak, murmured response from Ianto.

‘Hush, you,’ Jack reprimanded softly. Ianto let out a small chuckle.

‘So, how do we go about doing this?’ Gwen asked.

‘No idea,’ Jack responded, circling the Rift manipulator, searching for the controls.

‘Great, so we’re still stuck here,’ Rhys huffed.

‘Have faith,’ Jack shot back, ‘I don’t give up real easy.’

‘That’s a shame, we could have avoided an injury on your part.’

The cold voice of Queen Isis brought their attention from the Rift manipulator and to the doorway through which they had come. Four burly guards flanked the Queen, each with a set of the heavy iron chains.

‘We didn’t want it to come to this, Jack dear,’ the Queen sighed.

‘You said that they would not be harmed,’ Jack stated, hands planted on his hips, ‘You broke that promise.’

‘Oh that’s sad,’ Isis sneered, ‘but we don’t care. Guards!’

The four muscled guards approached, chains held before them.

*

‘Bloody brilliant,’ Rhys fumed, ‘Now what, Captain?’ he spat the final word as if it were a curse.

‘I’m not a god!’ Jack shouted at him, ‘As much as I like to think I am, I’m not a bloody god, I don’t have all the answers! Can’t you see that?’

‘Rhys, please,’ Gwen said soothingly, pulling him aside.

Jack knelt before Ianto’s form seated against one dank wall.

‘Are we ever going to get out of here?’ Ianto asked. His voice was broken and tears slid down his cheeks, from pain and frustration.

‘I’ll find a way,’ Jack murmured, cupping Ianto’s moist cheek lightly.

‘How?’

‘We need a miracle,’ Jack sighed, gathering Ianto into his arms, ‘Let’s hope that we get one.’

*

Their miracle came in the form of a sign. They had lost track of time long ago and with no view of the outside world they had no way to pass the days. Even without daily beatings, Ianto was getting weaker, infection spreading throughout his body. Gwen and Rhys were almost immobile with hunger. Only Jack remained somewhat coherent. This in and of itself was a blessing in disguise. If he had not been aware of his surroundings, Jack may not have heard one of the guards utter two certain words. Separately, these words were nothing special, but when used in this certain combination, they meant more than all the universes combined. Bad Wolf. Jack was certain that they would survive.


End file.
